


Whom He May Devour

by Androidraptor



Category: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996), The Lion King (1994)
Genre: BAMF Scar, Frollo being a creep, M/M, Minor Violence, Period-Typical Racism, Racism, Scar is human and not giving a single fuck, Sexual Repression, Sexual Violence, alluded to anyway, and also taking none of Frollo's shit, no GRAPHIC sex here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 23:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Androidraptor/pseuds/Androidraptor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt in Disney Kink, which requested "Hellfire" redone as slash. I'm sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whom He May Devour

The shadows cast from the fire offered a wild, almost demonic quality to the otherwise motionless stone walls. The bright glow from the fireplace was only broken by the form of Judge Claude Frollo standing intently in front of it. His eyes focused on the flames, his mind turning them into pictures as he tried to focus on clearing and purifying his thoughts.

Gypsies have an uncanny way of using the devil to their advantage, and perverting the minds of the otherwise pious with the most blasphemous of thoughts.

Frollo tensed his fist. Ever since he'd first seen the man at the Feast of Fools he couldn't get those piercing green eyes out of his head. He hated having to attend the event, especially since it guaranteed him having to watch the perverse antics of the gypsy vermin. See them frolicking about, soiling the city with their banter and dancing and schemes. He didn't know why this one caught his eye; he had the same tan skin and long, dark hair as the rest of them. But he walked with a particular air of confidence, even more feral and sensual than the rest of his peers. Almost like a wild animal, he stalked up to Frollo's seat. Frollo reluctantly turned to face him and was greeted with the most enchanting green eyes he'd ever seen. His muscles moved with perfect grace as he slid over the arm rest and into the Judge's lap.

And then, in one of the most smooth, lush voices he'd ever heard sarcastically asked if he was normally this crotchety or if he just hadn't found a partner for the night.

Frollo, of course, replied by shoving him off as quickly as possible before beckoning his guards to arrest the nuisance. The man had already dashed away with almost cat-like grace, leaving the men to do little more than stand in a stupor before Frollo ordered them to split up and trace all paths he could've taken. 

That left the entire day for the curse he'd inflicted on Frollo's mind to sink in and pollute what was once pure and righteous.

A log fell and sent embers into the cold air. Frollo offered himself the slightest smile at the thought that the green-eyed gypsy would be reduced to a similar form the next day. It was almost as exciting a thought as the sight of him being dragged to the Palace of Justice in chains the hours prior.

Even weighed down with heavy steel, he still walked with an air of superiority and charisma. It was nightfall by the time he'd finally been located and arrested. Even in the dark those eyes still shot out like a beacon, sending a chill through Frollo's spine. Glaring at him underneath a torch revealed another distinct feature he'd somehow missed before: a deep, pink scar over his left eye. It intrigued Frollo as much as it repulsed him. It made him seem even more exotic and dangerous, like a wild animal. A wild animal who'd survived some kind of horrible attack only to carry on even more proud and arrogant than before.

Of course, the proper place for a dangerous wild animal is behind the bars of a sturdy cage, where it can't harm the defenseless innocents.

Oh how wonderful it was to see the look on his face as he was thrown into the cell. For a split second the man broke his facade of superiority and offered Frollo an expression of genuine fear. Frollo made the mistake of not immediately returning to his other duties, however, and followed him in once his guards finished shackling him to the wall. He was such a unique specimen, and Frollo had to get a closer look.

Frollo slowly circled him, eyes focused and enraptured by the long, wavy black hair that gently fell the length of his delicate shoulders. The exotic tunic now torn from the struggles of the day. Oh how he wanted to tear it more, tear it off and-

What kind of thoughts were these?!

The man offered and few sarcastic remarks and loosely-veiled pleas for mercy. The desires he'd put in Frollo's head made him certain he was a witch and deserved nothing less than choking on the smoke of his pyre or having a noose snap that slender neck.

Before he knew it Frollo was kneeling to the level of the man, his face buried in that charcoal-black hair and his hands offering exploration of his neck and chest. He wondered what it'd be like to tame such a wild animal, if such a thing could even be done. Force him to stay at his beck and call doing whatever his master ordered him. Keep him in chains or on a leash so he couldn't escape. He'd look so good with a thick leather collar, Frollo thought as he let a finger trace the length of his neck to the top of his collar bone. Or a noose, if it came to that.

Frollo's daydream was interrupted by the jarring sensation of teeth sinking into his neck. The man decided to show his appreciation for his captor's affection using the only weapon he had available to him. As slender and delicate as he was he had a surprisingly powerful bite, like a predator on the neck of its prey. Frollo gasped and leapt to his feet, almost certain he was capable of ripping out something vital if he gave him a few more moments. 

Misbehavior must be punished, and Frollo reciprocated the gesture with a slap. Unfortunately, he didn't have the means to add another scar to that pretty face of his. Bruises from his rings, however, were delightfully evident mere moments afterwards. Frollo looked down at him, almost expectant of some whimper of pain or sign he feared him. But instead the man kept his eyes fixed at the ground in defiance. Not shame, not cowering, but a sense of defiance so strong Frollo could almost taste it.

Irritated at the lack of acknowledgement, Frollo grabbed him by the hair and forced those emerald eyes into his once again.

"That's not the behavior of a civilized, intelligent creature, gypsy," maybe this would evoke a reaction.

The man only glared with resentment.

"-not that I expect anything of the sort from you or your kind," he yanked the man's ponytail sharply to emphasize his point.

The gypsy couldn't help but offer a small grunt of pain at this. Frollo smiled slightly at the wonderful sound of a small victory until he was met a smirk and glare of defiance once again.

"Yes, and I see the civilized and intelligent greet such lowly beings as myself by caressing and groping them," he purred with all the sauvity of their earlier interactions, "or maybe I'm just the lucky man you've decided to bed for the night. Might I suggest we move to a more appropriate place for such activities, then? These chains and stone floors are going to make intercourse with you even more uncomfortable than it already will be. But I presume you just don't have enough experience to know that-"

Frollo tore his hand away from the mess of raven hair and almost instinctively returned the retort with another slap.

"Your execution will be tomorrow morning. I have all the proof I need to convict you guilty of witchcraft," he took one last, extended look at the man. The dim flicker of the torches couldn't hide the small bruises forming on his cheeks. It was a nice addition to that otherwise perfect brown skin. He was almost woman-like, save for the small tuft of facial hair the end of his chin. His slight build and slender wrists made the chains that bound him look almost oversized. And the way he carried himself was just as effeminate as it was untamed and proud. It was almost a shame it had to end this way; he really was quite lovely.

The fire crackled again and Frollo rubbed the bruise on his neck. It disgusted him to feel the pain and think about how the gypsy dared to bite him like the lowest of beasts. Bite him and curse him to unholy thoughts and desires that no man in his moral standing would normally feel. Oh how he looked forward to seeing the man tied to a pyre the next day, screaming and struggling until the smoke finally asphyxiated him. He wondered if he'd try to beg for mercy; the man did seem to have a particularly cowardly and manipulative air to him underneath the pomp. Of course mercy wouldn't be granted for such vermin. Such wild, dangerous, filthy, beautiful vermin. 

Unless... no! Frollo couldn't entertain such thoughts. They were merely the words of the devils used by the gypsy to curse him.

His hand tensed on the bruise. Anger filled his body, anger at the man, the situation, and himself for being so weak. With as close a connection to God as he had, why wasn't he able to ward off such horrible desires? But soon it would all be over and the hex would perish in the flames with its creator.

A firm knock shattered the near-silence just as he finally felt like he'd tamed those heathenish thoughts and desires. A soldier stood at the door, with an expression equal parts concern and bewilderment.

"Minister Frollo, I, I don't know how, but the gypsy arrested earlier.... he's escaped," the man reluctantly informed.

"What...?! But, how?! He was chained and caged!"

"I don't know sir. We've searched the entire Palace and there's no trace of him,"

Frollo stood in disbelief. This one, as bestial as he was, was particularly powerful. Frollo couldn't let such a dangerous creature roam loose now, if he could break free of chains and steel bars there was no telling what else he was capable of. There might as well be a lion roaming Paris, intent on stalking and devouring whatever innocent, weak soul was unlucky enough to look into those beautiful eyes.

But oh how Frollo wanted to chain and break that lion, to turn his smooth retorts into cries of pain and fear. To hold down that lithe, brown body and caress that silky, raven hair in his fingers. To hear the choked gasps of frustration and anguish beneath the cloth gag (Frollo wasn't going to make the mistake of leaving him able to bite again) as the once-mighty predator was stripped of all majesty he once possessed.

"Find him. I don't care if you have to burn down all of Paris! That wretched creature will be brought back to me no matter the cost!" he barked. The man nodded and slammed the door shut, ready to start the task at hand.

Frollo returned to face the fire. He felt a strange sense of guilt building inside of him. He'd allowed himself to be tempted and vexed by the lowest of scum, have his mind filled with the most sinful of thoughts. And it wasn't over. The beast would continue to torment his thoughts, his dreams, his prayers and his nightmares until caught. Those emerald eyes piercing through the abyss of Hell, trying to lure him in with a siren song encased the most hideous, beautiful being he'd ever seen. Relief wouldn't come until he was brought back once again in chains, and this time Frollo would make sure he would be returned every ounce of suffering and grief he'd caused him and the good people of the city.

The lion may be a king amongst beasts, but he was still at the mercy of man.


End file.
